


Amata ex mortō

by Sumprote



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, star wars rogue squadron
Genre: F/M, Grief, Rogue Squadron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 01:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13671492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumprote/pseuds/Sumprote
Summary: After losing someone close to her, Iella is comforted by Wedge.





	Amata ex mortō

Wedge Antilles took a deep breath as the turbolift doors opened. Just tell her you’re sad to hear about Diric. Maybe share a few stories of home. She’s just a friend that you are coming to comfort, nothing more. An Ithorian strolled right up to the turbolift and asked, “You getting out or what?” “Oh sorry.” Wedge stepped out and heard the hiss of the doors closing behind him. He glanced down at the pot of flowers we was bringing to Iella. The night-black petals were a gift from a guy named Rostek on Corellia, smuggled by Mirax Terrik. Wedge knew that his friends supported Iella and now it was his turn to show his care. Raising his hand with renewed composure, the rebel pilot knocked on her door.  
  
“If you’re trying to sell something, go to the Nine Hells!’ Wedge heard shouted from behind the door, accompanied by the sound of feet stomping on the floor. The door swung open forcefully. “Oh, it’s you,” a mourning Iella said, beginning to straighten out her disheveled blond hair. “Come on in, Wedge,” she said as she opened the door further. The two made their way to a couch in the living room almost in unison. Iella pushed a pile of clothes off the couch onto the floor so that her guest would have a seat. The rebels sat in silence for a few minutes, not knowing what to say to one another. Finally, Iella broke the ice. “So how are the Rogues? I heard Corran and Tycho are back to service.”  
  
“Yeah, we’re doing fine. It’s strange not having a commission. Lusankya couldn’t break Corran and he’s back to making wisecracks. Tycho’s always as strong as ever. He now has more time to spend with Winter.” Wedge paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing to offend her, but he must end this awkward silence. “So, um, how are you holding up since the, ahem, event?”  
  
Iella burst into tears. “Awful.” She buried her face in her hands and wiped away the tears. “Every day since Diric passed, I look to his chair and am constantly reminded that he’s gone- gone!” The woman burst into another bout of sobbing. “I know I shouldn’t be missing him but I am. For some many years, I had not known where he was only to have him back. When he’s finally recovering, he is ripped from my arms in the worst way possible!” Iella looked at Wedge. He face was red and worn with anger. She took a deep breath and rested her head upon his shoulder.  
Wedge did not know what to think of this predicament he had gotten himself into. On one hand, Iella was a very attractive woman and Wedge wouldn’t be upset if he got together with her. But wouldn’t I be taking advantage of her? Her husband dies and I immediately steal his place. But she really needs someone to comfort her. It’s not romance, it’s just friendship. Carefully, Wedge slipped his hand around her shoulder and rubbed gently, hoping the sensation would calm Iella.  
  
It didn’t. Iella broke into another sob. Wedge pulled her in close as if this simple act would protect her from all the evils of the galaxy. Death Stars, Sith Lords, sleeper agents. Wedge would protect her from all of the above. As Iella’s head rested in Wedge’s lap, warmth from his legs poured into her head, reinvigorating her strength. Wedge adjusted his hands to match her. He slid his right hand from her shoulder down the length of her side to her belly where it now resided on her front. With nowhere else worthwhile to go, Wedge used his left hand to tousle Iella’s messy golden locks. The two were more than comfortable entwined each each other’s loving embrace. Eventually, the two fell fast asleep.

  


***  
In the morning, Iella opened her eyes to see Wedge making caf for her. He handed it to her, enriched with nerf-milk cream, and said, “Good morning, beautiful.” Instead of replying to him, she accepted the cup of caf greedily. As she brought the bitter beverage up to drink the caramel-colored liquid, a white heart of cream appeared in the brown circle. She took a sip. It was sweet. Sweeter than anything she had ever tasted, yet not overwhelming like rhyscate. Everything was perfect. Too perfect…  
Iella awoke with a startle. The door to her apartment closed with a creek. She looked to her side only to find Wedge gone. She arose from the couch and checked the kitchenette where Wedge prepared caf in her dream. In place of a cup, a piece of flimsiplast sat on the plasteel countertop. It read:

_Dear Iella,_  
I’m sorry I left in the morning without talking to you. The Rogues are leaving in the morning to set up a new HQ on a station Mirax’s dad found for us. We could use someone on the ground in Thyferra for when we liberate it from Old Iceheart.  
Wedge 


End file.
